You're Not Fat, Cas
by torsdagengel
Summary: The hunter watches him for a moment, a little concerned and wondering briefly when Cas had started acting like a sixteen year old girl. "You're not fat, Cas; you're pregnant." ((A compilation of oneshots with mpreg!Cas.))
1. You're not fat, Cas

**Rating:** PG13**  
Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Pairing(s): **Dean/Castiel  
**Warnings: **MPREG, slash, possible English mistakes, moody!Cas  
**Spoilers:** none. **  
A/N: **Just a fluffy little something that popped into my head. It wasn't necessarily meant to be related to This Is Us, but it could probably be interpreted that way if you'd like. I hope anyone who pops by can enjoy! Thanks for reading! :)

* * *

"Dean, it doesn't fit!" Castiel calls from their shared walk-in closet, sounding frustrated and a little out of breath.

The hunter comes to his aid and can't help but chuckle at the sight of Castiel looking defeatedly at the half buttoned flannel that won't close over his six months pregnant belly.

His cheeks are a little flushed with frustration and embrrasment as he first looks up at the hunter, but his features quickly soften when he notices Dean smiling at him fondly.

Castiel is about to reciprocate the expression, but a small flutter of the baby shifting in middle of his abdomen reminds him of his current predicament.

"Nothing fits," the angel huffs, ready to give up and just go on their date shirtless.

"Hey, it's okay," Dean encourages, "What about the blue one. Did you try that one?"

The angel shifts his gaze away, looking ashamed.

"The button came off," he mumbles, frowning.

It would've been kind of funny, except Cas actually looks like he's about to cry for a moment, keeping his eyes turned away as they get a little glossy.

"Hey, no worries," the hunter quickly tries to console, "It's not a big deal, man. We'll just sew it back on."

Cas still looks upset.

"Flannels are probably too, uh… revealing now for public places anyways," Dean adds, still trying to make it better but only digging himself a deeper hole, "Just wear a big sweater or something."

Castiel's frown deepens, and a couple wayward tears wiggle down his cheeks.

"But, Dean—"

"Whoa - whoa! Hey, don't cry," the hunter tries fruitlessly, "Cas, it's nothing to cry over."

"But you said - you said that you enjoyed this one last time," he whimpers, gesturing at the shirt and nearly sobbing, "And now I'm too fat to wear it! I'm sorry, Dean! I'm sorry…"

The hunter watches him for a moment, a little concerned and wondering briefly when Cas had started acting like a sixteen year old girl.

"You're not fat, Cas; you're pregnant," Dean reminds, wrapping both arms around his angel from behind and resting a hand on his distended belly.

"You do not find my vessel less attractive like this?" the angel asks skeptically.

"Not in the slightest," Dean assures, smiling as he presses a kiss to his angel's cheek.

Castiel places his hand on top of Dean's.

"He is moving," he says quietly, "He knows you are close."

The hunter can't hold back the giant grin that takes over his face.

"You think he'll kick for me soon?"

A tiny smile reaches the angel's lips, "I believe so. He shifts often, and his movements are growing stronger… he occasionally experiences delafecks, which feel very strange."

"Dela-what?"

"Delafecks," Castiel repeats bluntly.

Dean continues to stare at him questioningly.

"Diaphragmatic spasms," the angel tries again.

"You mean hiccups?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow and moving to help Cas unbutton the top half of his shirt.

Castiel looks a little disappointed that he hadn't succeeded in using the proper term.

"Yes."

Dean pauses a moment, "Huh. They can do that in there?"

Castiel nods, looking uncharacteristically self conscious as the hunter slides his shirt the rest of the way off.

"Well… the more you know," Dean muses, squatting down to where he's at eye level with the bump.

"Whenever you're ready, little guy," he says quietly, patting Cas' belly gently, "I'll be waiting for that first high-five."

He plants a gentle kiss just above the angel's steadily disappearing bellybutton and can't help but laugh a little at the genuine, yet somehow mildly uncomfortable smile Cas is directing at him.

"Sorry," he chuckles standing up and turning to the collection of sweaters Cas has compiled over the last few years that are all hung neatly on a single rack, all warm and cosy and averaging several sizes too big for him.

"Here," Dean says grabbing one at random and thrusting it in the angel's direction, "This one is nice."

Castiel frowns slightly, "How can you be so certain that it's nice when you didn't bother to look at it."

Dean rolls his eyes.

"Cas, since when have I ever cared what you're wearing?" Dean asks, giving him a look, "Since when do _you_ care?"

The angel doesn't seem to have an answer, so Dean just smiles and presses a chaste kiss to his lips, shoving the sweater into his hands as he walks back into their room, leaving Cas standing alone in the closet and wondering why on earth he had just been so distressed about something so trivial as fabric.

"Hurry up, man," Dean calls, flopping down on their bed and staring at the ceiling.

He hears Cas shuffling around a bit, the rustling of fabric against fabric and fabric against skin… then it stops for a moment.

"Dean!" Cas cries, some emotion in his tone that is difficult to decipher.

The hunter sits up, immediately alert just in case it's something bad. He's about to go to Cas, but the angel comes to him, moving as quickly as his pregnant belly will allow.

The sweater is only half over his head and possibly on backwards, but it isn't on enough to cover his belly, which he seems suddenly very eager to show to the hunter.

"Dean, he just kicked!" the angel exclaims, grabbing the hunter's hand and placing it in the correct spot on his belly, "He's kicking, Dean! He kicked twice! He will do it again in just a moment!"

The happiness and excitement in Cas' voice are priceless, and Dean wishes he could have a picture of that smile he's wearing.

Sure enough, there it is. It's only a little kick, not all that strong yet, but a kick nonetheless, and Dean can feel it.

"That's right. High-five, little dude," is all he can manage without breaking into emotional sap mode, "Or high-foot… or whatever that was there."

Dean can't help but grin like an idiot.

"I can't wait to meet you, little guy."

* * *

End.

If anyone would like to prompt me or suggest something, please feel free to message me or leave a review since this is going be a collection of various oneshots with mpreg!Cas (my guilty pleasure that I'm really not guilty about at all). Also, I'd love to hear some feedback if you've got any to give. (; Thanks for reading!


	2. Again

**Rating:** PG**  
Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Pairing(s): **Dean/Castiel  
**Warnings: **MPREG, MPREG baby, slash, possible English mistakes  
**Spoilers:** none. **  
A/N: **Hello there! I'm very glad to see you have returned! First off, I received a request from someone for something a bit more on the serious side, and I suppose this chapter is, but I'm planning to write something else for that. Also, once again this is not necessarily related to my other story, but I purposefully wrote it so anyone can make the choice whether to interpret it that way or not. One more thing, I do reference some ideas that are more properly explained in my other story, but it shouldn't make much of a difference to anyone who hasn't read it. Thanks for stopping by! I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

Castiel waits patiently at the table in the back of the local starbucks for Dean to arrive, gently rocking the stroller back and forth where their one year old son is sleeping soundly.

He rests his head against the table, starting to feel slightly nauseous again, and doesn't even notice the hunter come in until he is sitting down across from him and nudging a chai latte in his direction.

"Hey," Dean greets with a smile, cradling his own drink between his palms, "Tired?"

Castiel lifts his head and nods as best as he can without encouraging the nausea to take action.

"So what is it you needed to talk to me about?" Dean asks.

The angel fidgets nervously as he glances at their still sleeping son. His only movements are the steady rising and falling of his tiny chest.

"I believe there may be an issue in regards to the well being if our family," he says after a moment.

Dean furrows his eyebrows.

"What's the issue?" the hunter asks, giving the angel a worried look as he notices the slightly repulsed look he's directing at the untouched beverage in front of him.

"You feeling okay, Cas? You don't look so good."

Castiel hesitates to respond.

He's fidgeting again; that can't be a good thing.

"Dean, I believe I may be pregnant again," the angle says quietly, daring to lift his gaze to meet the hunter's and quickly looking away when fear takes over.

Dean doesn't respond for a moment, long enough for Castiel to convince himself that he is upset. He looks up again, expecting the hunter to be angry with him, but the only recognisable emotion in his features is concern.

"Are you sure, Cas?"

The angel nods.

"I am fairly certain," he says, "I've… vomited twice since you left this morning, and I am beginning to feel subtle pains."

"Shit," the hunter muses, remembering the first time Cas had to go through this.

Images of the angel curled in on himself, crying out in pain, unable to move or speak or breathe, memories of the hours upon hours of being utterly useless while Castiel was exhausted and in pain are flashing through his mind.

"I believe it is in the early stages of bonding," the angel says, breaking the cycle of unpleasant memories pushing through the hunter's head, "If you would wish for me to handle the issue in such a way, I would be able to remove the embryo with very little pain on my behalf."

"What - no!" the hunter quickly puts out, looking like he's about to jump out of his seat, "I mean… shit, is that what _you_ want?"

The angel looks torn, stealing several quick glances at the sleeping baby beside him.

"No," he says, "But…"

"Cas, I'm with you on this one hundred percent, whatever you want to do, you got that? It ain't gonna be easy either way we go, but you're the one who has to deal with all that nasty painful shit, so I really can't make this decision."

The angel looks upset by that.

"Dean, there is more than just physical pain to be considered in this," he reasons, "The decision is equally yours to make."

The hunter sighs, leaning forward slightly and taking the angel's hand in his own.

"Okay. Right… Was it worth it last time?" he asks somewhat rhetorically.

The angel affirms without hesitation, "Yes."

Dean nods slightly, seeming to contemplate something for a moment.

"Do you think it would be worth it a second time?"

The angel is quiet for a long moment, looking very much distressed as he shifts his gaze back and forth between the hunter and their son, who should be waking up anytime now.

"I do not wish to remove the embryo," he declares finally, "But the bonding process is - last time I was not able to keep quiet. He would be frightened, and I—"

"Hey. Cas, it's okay. He can stay the night with Sam; it's not like he hasn't done it before," Dean assures.

"But Dean, there are other complications - I will likely be very ill again, and—"

"Cas," the hunter cuts him off, locking with his gaze when the angel looks him in the eye, "Do you want to keep it?"

Castiel looks scared, and he's hesitant to give any kind of response, but after a long moment, he dares to nod very slightly.

"Yes."

"Then it's settled," Dean says, "And this time everything is gonna go smoothly, and you're not gonna be sick, and there won't be any complications, cause I'm not gonna let any of that happen. I'm gonna take real good care of you, and it's gonna be better this time, you hear me?"

The angel nods, this time with a bit more confidence.

"Good. Now let's get you home so you can rest, and maybe we can see how many hints we can drop before Sammy figures it out."

* * *

End.

Damn, I really miss Starbucks. They're all over in the states, but we literally have one here, and it costs twice as much. :(

Thanks for reading! Feedback and requests welcomed with open arms!


	3. April Fools

**Rating:** PG13**  
Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Pairing(s): **Dean/Castiel  
**Warnings:** MPREG, possible English mistakes  
**Spoilers:** none. **  
A/N: **Well with it being April Fools Day and all, I really couldn't help but write this little, sort of festive idea just happened to pop into my head. It's a little cheesy, yeah, but here it is! I hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

Castiel is leaning back against Dean's chest, contently settled between the hunter's legs and leaning into the soothing hand that's brushing gently through his hair.

He hums quietly in approval as he stretches his arms before settling to rest a hand on his swollen belly.

The sunlight seeping in through the window is illuminating a large portion of the couch, and the baby seems to agree that the warmth it's giving feels absolutely amazing.

That, in unison with Dean combing through his hair in just the right way, couldn't possibly have Castiel more content.

"So, you haven't done anything to get back at me yet," Dean comments.

The angel frowns slightly, recalling the events from earlier that day.

"I don't find it necessary that I do so," he says, adding the next part with a bought of annoyed sarcasm, "I believe the _immense_ amount of guilt you feel is a nearly suitable punishment… although I'm still keeping my promise to abstain from sex."

The hunter lets out a quiet laugh, "Cas, you couldn't have sex right now if you wanted to."

The angel's frown deepens.

"Then perhaps it's necessary that I continue to withhold after the baby is born."

Dean shifts beneath him and _whines_.

"Hey c'mon, Cas. All I did was put salt in your tea. That's not so bad, especially in comparison to what I used to do Sammy on April Fools Day," Dean argues.

"It was a cruel joke that ended in a very unpleasant experience."

Castiel can't see the hunter's now very guilty expression, but he notices the sudden lack of movement in Dean's hand and misses the feeling of gentle fingers sifting through his hair.

"Hey, I said I'm sorry, man. I didn't think you were actually going to swallow it—"

"It has nothing to do with ingestion, Dean," the angel counters, "It's the taste, and I had already been feeling nauseous to begin with."

There's an awkward silence for a long moment before Dean occupies his hands once again.

"I really do feel bad, man," Dean says quietly.

Castiel turns and leaves a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sure I will find a way to forgive you," he assures with a small smile.

He couldn't possibly stay angry with Dean when the hunter is basically massaging his head like this.

The angel hums quietly, low and soft, as he moves his hand down lower on his belly.

"Is he moving?" Dean asks curiously, noticing the change in position.

Castiel shakes his head.

"Just shifting slightly. You wouldn't be able to feel it."

He relaxes back into the warmth of the hunter's body, and it's hardly a few minutes later before he's fallen asleep there.

Dean continues to watch him and stroke his hair, and even in his sleep, Castiel leans into the touch.

The sun is mostly down when Dean wakes up. He doesn't remember dozing off, but suddenly Cas is calling his name and trying to shake him awake.

"_Dean_," he tries again, voice sounding frightened and strained.

"Cas…?" the hunter mumbles, still groggy, "What's the matter?"

The angel squirms uncomfortably for a moment, then tenses.

"It hurts, Dean," he manages, voice barely above a whisper, "I think - I think it's—"

Castiel stops as another sharp wave of pain comes over him. Dean sits up, gripping the angel's shoulder worriedly.

"Is it the baby?" he asks, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

Cas manages a small nod, cringing all the while.

"Dean," he half whines, half sobs, "Why is this so painful? I don't believe this is supposed to—"

He doubles over, and Dean suddenly backs away from him, sending a skeptical look in the angel's direction.

"_Ha_ ha, very funny, Cas," he says sarcastically, slightly annoyed.

Castiel remains curled up, quivering.

Several long moments pass without any kind of response from the angel.

"Alright, Cas, joke's over," the hunter tries again, mostly in attempt to reassure himself this time.

"Dean, I can assure you that this is not a joke. I believe I may be—"the angel tenses again, biting his lower lip to hold back a whimper, "—Dean, I think I am going into labour."

He's shaking violently , and every passing second discourages Dean's reluctantly discarded theory that Cas might have been faking this.

"Shit," he mutters before reaching forward and tentatively placing a hand on the angel's shoulder, "Christ, you're not joking, are you…"

Castiel puffs a few shallow breaths, lifting his head to look at the hunter, genuine pain evident in his eyes.

"I am not," he affirms, before another sharp stab sends him doubling over again.

He's unable to hold back the pained sob that escapes him.

"Dean, I am not."

* * *

Part two, anyone? Let me know what you think! (;


	4. April Fools - part 2

**Rating:** PG13**  
Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Pairing(s): **Dean/Castiel  
**Warnings:** MPREG, possible English mistakes  
**Spoilers:** none. **  
A/N:** As was requested, here is a part two to this. You can thank the stupid fucking sun for the update coming so quickly. Oh boy, I just can't wait for summer when that fucker is coming up at 4am (you'd think I would have gotten used to this at some point in my life, but no…). Anyway, pardon my rant about the burning ball of hydrogen and helium that may or may not be the death of us someday billions of years in the future. It's a pathetic excuse for a sun if you ask me… only average size, middle aged, not all that hot, not even going to supernova, and it doesn't even have a cool name. It's just sun. Our sun is like the retarded child that all the other suns put up with but kind of just casually try to steer clear of.

Aaand there is your astronomy lesson for the day, children. I hope you enjoy the story! (It has nothing to do with suns.)

* * *

Cas had said before that there wasn't much in common between the human and angelic birthing processes. He'd gone on to babble some shit about different planes of existence and how the actual act of getting the baby out of there was hardly a physical process at all. Unfortunately, angels don't get a pass on the endless hours upon hours of painful contractions, as had long since become apparent to the pair still dealing with such an affliction now in the early hours of the morning.

Dean had somehow managed to get the angel to their room some hours ago, poor Castiel still sweaty and exhausted and in so much pain that it's physically hurting Dean to see him like this.

"I'm sorry, buddy," he tries to comfort when a broken sob passes the angel's lips.

Castiel relaxes just slightly for a brief moment when Dean combs a hand through his hair.

"I never wish… to experience this again," he mutters quietly under laboured breathing, clinging to the hunter for dear life, squeezing his hand so tightly that it will undoubtedly leave a bruise.

His muscles tighten as he curls up around another violent contraction that causes him to cry out and sputter Dean's name woven into a long string of nonsense.

"Cas, I'm so sorry," is all he can think to say.

There is nothing Dean can do but hold him and gently pet through his hair until the pain eases.

It all happens in a bit of a blur, and Dean's recollection of the even is extremely fuzzy. He remembers the early morning birds chirping outside seeming to get louder as if they were egging them on, but that's impossible, he knows. He remembers Cas hurting so bad that for a minute they'd both thought he was going to die, and then there was this bright light that he'd had to look away from, and suddenly he was just there, settled in Cas' arms, screaming his little lungs out, and so unbelievably perfect.

It takes Dean a moment to come back to earth and realise that this isn't a dream, and the peachy little thing nestled in Cas' arms is really their son.

"Would you like to hold him?" the angel asks, voice tired and weary. He looks so disheveled and utterly exhausted, but the smile he's wearing is so bright and clearly reads that it was all worth it.

Dean is still looking, stunned, at him and their son when he nods, almost hesitantly.

"Yeah… 'course I do," he manages, still completely awed.

He is surprisingly clean, Dean notices when he takes him, not covered in any nasty fluids like a regular human baby, but he certainly wasn't born with any clothes on, and the room could stand to be a bit warmer.

Dean grabs the first thing he can find to use as a temporary blanket, which happens to be an old, faded Led Zeppelin tee shirt that he had thrown on the bed the day before.

"Well hey there, don't cry," he says, voice ever so gentle and absolutely not choked up (he is _not_ getting emotional, N-O-T), as he bundles him up in the soft, worn fabric and brushes back the fuzzy mess of dark hair on the baby's head, "Welcome to the world, little buddy."

Dean can't believe how tiny he is. His soft, curious little fingers are a bit mesmerising, reaching out and grasping for some unknown object and displaying the smallest, most delicate little fingernails the hunter has ever seen.

Now that he's calmed down, it's clear that his eyes are not the usual dark blue most newborns have, but a definitive green, still dark, but obvious in their colour. He's making faces, crooked little smiles and scrunching up his nose, experimenting with his unpractised muscles, entirely unaware of the outcomes, and it has to be the cutest thing in the world.

"Cas, what are we gonna call him?" Dean asks, suddenly seeming very concerned about the topic, "And don't say some weird, girly-sounding angelic name, because I'm not gonna have him getting made fun of—"

The angel clears his throat.

"Actually, I have been considering… I like Dmitri," he says, a bit shyly, "I… believe Dmitri Elias sounds nice."

Dean watches their son closely as he wraps an arm around Cas, who leans against him tiredly, eyes half lidded.

"I like that," he says smiling like an idiot, "Dmitri Elias Winchester… it has a nice ring to it."

Castiel nods sleepily.

"Yes, it does," he agrees, consciousness fading.

The pair turn their attention to their son when he lets out a small, contented sigh.

Dean's grin widens as he watches him proudly.

"We're gonna take real good care of you, little guy."

* * *

I hope I did a quality job with this. It's not really original or anything (actually, it's pretty similar to my other story), but I really hope it was enjoyable! I had a pretty hard time coming up with the name. I really like the name I have for their son in my chapter fic, but I also had readers help me come up with that one. I'm not very creative in that area, if you couldn't tell.

Reviews are very much appreciated! Remember, I only write these whenever I get an idea for something, so please, if you happen to have any, please send them to me! :)

Thanks so much for reading!


	5. In sickness

**Rating:** PG13**  
Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Pairing(s): **Dean/Castiel  
**Warnings:** MPREG, possible English mistakes  
**Spoilers:** none. **  
A/N:** Well hey! It's been a while. This is really short, just a little drabble I wrote for a prompt I got on tumblr (yes, it's _OKAY_ to communicate with me and send me prompts). The prompt: _Dean has the stomach flu while Pregnant!Cas is dealing with morning sickness and poor sick babies are trying to look after each other, but they both just feel so crappy_

* * *

Dean falls back on the bed, his head pounding in his skull, keeping him awake despite his exhaustion. He feels Castiel shift beside him and moan.

"Dean, you smell like vomit," he complains, swallowing thickly and sluggishly curling around his distended belly.

Ever since Cas had hit the third trimester, his morning sickness had been back with a vengeance — except now it's more like all hours of the day and night sickness. Everything makes him nauseous, and now with the baby squirming and kicking constantly at his insides, Castiel finds himself keeping an eye on the bathroom more often than not.

In comparison, it hadn't been so bad when he'd had Dean there, rubbing his back and delivering reassurances, holding him when the flow of hormone induced tears wouldn't stop. Now, however, said hunter was laid up in bed with a fever and a pretty nasty stomach bug, leaving Castiel entirely on his own.

The angel rolls over to face his wilted mess of a hunter, propping himself up slightly with one hand holding his belly while the other tests the temperature of the heated skin of Dean's cheek.

"Your fever has gone up," he announces, and the hunter just groans in pain.  
"Well if you would simply allow me to heal you, you wouldn't have to endure this suffering," Castiel bites in annoyance.

Dean shakes his head weakly.

"No, Cas. Just… save your energy for the baby, okay? M'fine," he manages, swallowing down his nausea and closing his eyes.

The angel sighs.

"Dean, you are very warm. Will you at least take a cold shower… please?"  
Another groan from the other side of the bed.

"Dean."

"If I get up, there is no question I'm gonna puke again."

"Then I'll assist you."

"I'll puke on you."

Castiel glares, irritated and unwilling to deal with Dean's shit.

"And I will return the favour without hesitation."

Dean chuckles slightly after a moment, though it somehow sounds pained.

"Reminds me of this one porno—"

"_Dean_. Your son has been kicking me all night while I feel like my insides are trying to kill me. You are being a _child_, and at this rate, the energy required to heal your 'sorry ass' is far less than what I am expending worrying about your health while attempting to deal with my own physical state."

After a moment of staring into blue eyes and fumbling to find words, Dean is able to collect his thoughts and gives in with a sigh.

"You gonna join me?"

Castiel pushes himself upright, stifling a groan, but somehow fondness is the only look in his eyes.

"Do I really have a choice?"


End file.
